The Heroes of Tython: An Anthology
by SWTORpadawan
Summary: Before there was a legend, there was a man. Before there was an Outlander, there was a Hero. Before there was an Alliance, there was a crew. This is their story. In Chapter Two, Satele Shan encounters a danger that threatens to destroy the Heroes of Tython forever!
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** _Before there was an Alliance, there was a crew. Before there was a legend, there was a man. Before there was an Outlander, there was a **Hero**._

 _This is their story._

 **Author's Notes:** _Something a little different for the opening chapter. Several original characters appear, hence the use of a dramatis personae. I ask you to please bear with me._

* * *

 **Dramatis Personae  
** Captain Montori – Male Zabrak; Captain of the _Drake_ , a transport ship in the Republic navy  
Lieutenant Diru – Female Miralan; Executive Officer and helmsman aboard the _Drake  
_ Lieutenant Kachok – Male Mon Calamari; Weapons Officer aboard the _Drake  
_ Ensign Pryde – Female Human; Communications Officer aboard the _Drake  
_ Doctor Quasti – Female Selkath; Chief Medical Officer about the _Drake  
_ Private Callan Grayne – Male Human; Republic soldier  
Private Fideltin Rusk – Male Chagrian; Republic soldier  
Unnamed male human infant

* * *

 ** _The Legol System – outgoing vector  
_ _Outer Rim of the known galaxy  
_ _12 years before the signing of the Treaty of Coruscant_**

"Kachok, keep those _kriffing_ fighters off of us!"

Captain Bail Montori of the Galactic Republic navy gripped his seat as his ship, the _Drake_ , shuddered again under heavy weapons fire from the pursuing Imperial squadron. The _Drake_ had been the last ship to lift off from Legol IV, a small corporate gas mining colony on the rim, and now it was all Montori and his crew could do to escape. Why the Sith Empire had decided to send an entire _fleet_ to invade such a minor, poorly defended system had been anyone's guess, but the order for the troops to evacuate had gone out almost immediately at the sight of the vast opposition the Republic faced.

"Trying, sir. We've already lost two of our defense cannons." As usual, the Mon Calamari was cool under pressure as he directed the _Drake_ 's guns. They said his species were the best space-farers in the galaxy, and Montori wouldn't dispute that claim based on what he'd observed of the Lieutenant's performance.

"Helm! How long?" Montori called out again.

From her pilot's seat, Lieutenant Diru continued her calculations for hyperspace at the nav-computer even as she answered her commanding officer. The Miralan was not quite as collected in battle as Kachok, but she'd been an excellent X.O. to Montori nevertheless. She had done her duty and served with distinction aboard the _Drake_ up until this point.

If she succeeded in her duty again today, perhaps they would all live to see tomorrow.

"Almost there, sir!" she promised, fingers flying across the terminal. "Just ten more seconds!"

The _Drake_ shook again as it took another hit.

"You've got five." The Zabrak growled, slamming his hand on the ship's internal communications control. "All hands! Brace for emergency hyperspace jump!"

The Captain gripped his chair again as, a moment later, the stars beyond the canopy of the ship's bridge seemed to stretch and bend into the distinctive streaks of hyperspace.

The battle behind them faded.

They had escaped.

The Zabrak let out a sigh of relief as he stood up. "Status report."

"Heavy damage to the aft deflector shields, sir." Kachok's voice gurgled. "In addition to the two destroyed turrets, minor damage to the hull. We maintained integrity, however. No injuries reported. I recommend that we begin full repairs as soon as we reach the rendezvous point."

Montori nodded grudgingly. "It is so ordered. Anyone else?"

A brief, but not unwelcome silence fell over the bridge crew. For a moment, Montori hoped that Kachok's report was the worst of the news.

"Sir…." The soft, feminine voice came from the corner.

Captain Montori turned. From the communications terminal, Ensign Pryde stood slowly. She had been silent during most of their escape, but now the expression on her face was completely stricken.

"What is it, Ensign?" the Captain frowned.

"It's the colony, sir." Pryde nearly choked the words out. She seemed distraught. "Legol. It's gone."

Montori paused, giving a nod in apparent understanding.

"They surrendered, didn't they?" he sighed. "Its unfortunate, Ensign. But we can't blame them. We were ordered to pull out, and they were practically defenseless without us. Against an invasion force of that size…" he shook his head. "There was nothing we could have done for them. Especially not considering the whole colony was under a bio-dome in a toxic atmosphere, and they didn't even have a proper planetary shield in place. If they had fought back, the Empire could have opened fire on the whole colony. It would have been disastrous. I hate leaving civilians to the Empire as much as you do, but there's no reason to think the Imperials will be overly harsh. They'll want the miners to cooperate…."

Montori's voice trailed off as he realized his words were not soothing the young human female. Pryde's blue eyes were glistening as tears fell from her cheeks.

"Pryde, what is it?" the pit of Montori's stomach suddenly filled with dread.

"They destroyed it, sir." Pryde let out a sob. "We picked up the transmissions just before we jumped. Orbital bombardment. The whole colony…. all those people. They're all gone."

The Captain's jaw dropped. Around the bridge, the rest of the crew reacted with shock as well. Kachok's massive eyes blinked in alarm while Diru visibly gasped.

"Pryde… that doesn't make sense. Kachok reported the Imps were already landing their own transports before we made it out. If the capital ships opened fire, they would have been destroying their own ground forces. Force, that biodome and the people beneath it were the only things of value on the whole planet. It would cost the Empire billions to setup a new mining operation. It… what you said… it just doesn't make any sense." Montoria wrestled with the very thought.

"I heard their pleas for mercy." The tears continued to fall from Pryde's cheeks. "The colonists were surrendering. They were begging to be spared. The Imperials on the planet were screaming for the dreadnaughts to cease fire. They didn't… they didn't stop." Pryde reached out behind her and gripped the wall for support. Diru stepped away from her station and embraced the younger woman in support. Pryde wrapped her arms around the executive officer's neck, burying her face in Diru's shoulder.

"There were almost three thousand civilians still under that dome." Kachok gurgled.

"How could they have done this? Even Imperials…." The anger filled Diru's voice as she continued to hold onto Pryde, clenching her fists in impotent fury.

Captain Montori's face hardened with a look that could have cut through durasteel.

" _Sith_." He almost spat the word. "That's the only explanation. No Imperial commander, no matter how bloodthirsty, would have ordered his ships to open fire on his own men for no reason. Those people were murdered to make an example of them. Only a Sith could have ordered it. Only a Sith _would_ have ordered it." Montori was almost seething in rage.

The bridge went silent for a moment. None of the three crewmembers present challenged the Captain's logic.

The silence was finally interrupted by a beeping noise. Kachok reached over and pressed a button on the internal communications terminal, then regarded the text message appearing on the display.

"Captain, Doctor Quasti requests your presence in the medical bay. Apparently, it involves the evacuees."

After the last of the Republic troops had boarded the _Drake_ , they had taken on as many civilian refugees as their cargo hold could contain before lifting off.

 _Those hundred or so people packed into my ship are likely the last survivors of the Legol colony._ Montori reflected bitterly.

"Of course." The Captain nodded abruptly, clearing his head. He decided he needed a distraction from all of this. "Diru, you have the bridge. Pryde, you're relieved. Go get some rest. Take a sedative if you need it. Just… go and get some rest, and know we did all we could."

With that, he exited the bridge.

* * *

Captain Montori massaged the temples of his head where his horns met his skull one more time. The rage he had felt minutes earlier was replaced with frustration. It had been a very long day, and it wasn't getting any easier.

"Alright, gentlemen." He regarded the two Republic soldiers in front of him. "Please explain to me one more time how there is an unattended human infant in my Med Bay?"

Privates Callan Grayne and Fideltin Rusk stood at attention. The Human and the Chagrian had been part of the security forces assigned to the _Drake_ , and Montori understood they had effectively been supervising the evacuation. They had been the last two on the ground before the loading ramp had closed and the ship had lifted off.

Acts like that usually warranted a medal.

"Yes, sir." Both men answered simultaneously.

Rusk spoke alone this time. "Sir. When the order came down that the ship couldn't support any more people and that we should board, Private Grayne and I began turning them away. Several of the civilians protested and we were forced to level our weapons in their direction, just so they would step away from the platform. Private Grayne boarded first, and I was about to join him when a human woman ran forward with the infant in her arms. She pleaded with me to let her and the child board. I told her we had no room left." The Chagrian paused. "She kissed the infant – who I must assume was her own child – goodbye, then shoved it into my arms. Then she turned and ran away before I could protest."

"Properly, based on my orders, I should have left the infant there on the platform. Instead, I boarded with it, and brought it directly to sick bay." Rusk's hard face reset itself. "I am prepared to accept discipline for my failure to fully carry out the orders that were handed down to me."

Montori let out a slow breath. "Alright, at ease, both of you."

Both soldiers relaxed their posture, though Rusk continued to be wound tight.

 _Men like him belong in commando units or special forces._ Montori observed privately.

"Private, there is not a court in the Republic that would convict you for your actions this day." Montori said. "Yes, the hold was full. Yes, orders came down to allow no more refugees aboard. But our job is to protect the people of the Republic. Under those circumstances, it would have dereliction _not_ to have taken the child.

"The Captain's right, Rusk." Grayne added. The man's voice was gravelly but clear. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Montori nodded as Doctor Quasti approached, carrying the child in her arms, wrapped in a fresh blanket and quite asleep.

"Well, Doctor? How's your patient?"

"He's perfectly healthy, Captain." The Selkath answered. As usual, it took Montori a moment to understand her speech. He found the Doctor thoroughly capable otherwise, and he was somewhat embarrassed by his inability to communicate with her as smoothly as he would like. "The patient is a human male infant, approximately two months old. No defects, marking or ailments. He's asleep for now. He must be exhausted."

Rusk regarded the child. "He was crying when his mother gave him to me. But he fell asleep a few minutes later. It happened rather suddenly."

 _A few minutes later. It was likely this baby had slept through the destruction of his home._ Montori silently reflected.

"Any luck tracking down his identity? Any next of kin?"

The lobes hanging from the doctor's face seemed to dip. "None, I'm afraid. I ran his DNA against the Galactic database and it failed to find a match. Remember Legol was a corporate colony, and the child was almost certainly born there. Corporate colonies are exempt from the normal census laws."

"Meaning we can't even cross-reference him against the colonists' names." Montori frowned and turned to the privates. "What about our refugees? Could any of them help?"

Grayne shook his head sadly. "Sorry, sir. I already asked them. None of them could account for an infant. Not enough to identify one, anyway. Legol was a small colony, but not _that_ small. Plenty of people were having babies."

"That's a damn shame." The Captain sighed. "If he's lucky, he'll be sent to a Republic orphanage. If not, he'll likely head to a refugee camp. That's a tough life for any child, much less a baby."

"Yeah. And with most of the refugees just looking after their own, it will be hard to find anyone willing to take him in." Grayne lamented.

Doctor Quasti seemed poised to make a suggestion when the datapad attached to her belt started beeping.

"Ah. I need to get that. Private, would you…" Without any further warning warning, she handed the infant over to a somewhat startled Private Rusk, who barely had time to take the child in his arms. Quasti turned away from the trio, consulting her device.

Captain Montori debated excusing himself but decided it would be in bad form to abandon Rusk in that state. Grayne, naturally, was looking somewhat amused.

"It can't be that bad, Private." Montori tried not to sound amused.

"Yes, sir." The Chagrian replied automatically.

The infant stirred unexpectedly, suddenly opening its eyes. They seemed to dart around the room, taking everything in. As the brilliant light blue eyes looked focused up at Rusk, the child smiled, making a giggling sound. Rusk, for his own part, simply regarded the child, as if uncertain what he was supposed to do.

Private Grayne gave a slight chuckle. "Look, Rusk. He likes you." He teased her squad mate.

Fortunately for Rusk, Doctor Quasti stepped forward again, still regarding her pad.

"This is interesting. Captain, this child's genetic coding has tested positive for a high concentration of midi-chlorians."

The Captain took a long moment to comprehend what she was saying. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm not up to speed on that term."

"That means our little guy here is a future Jedi." Grayne grinned down at the infant in Rusk's arms.

"That means he has the _potential_ , Private." Quasti corrected, putting her datapad away. "Regulations are that we inform the Jedi Order, so they can take him in."

Montori nodded slowly. "Not an easy life, Jedi. But a better one than he'd find in most orphanages."

"I can get started on his paperwork." Doctor Quasti seemed pleased, pulling out her datapad again. "What name should I put?"

The four Republic military personnel all looked at each other than back to the infant, realizing that they lacked even a name to apply to their report.

"We need to choose an alias." Montori said.

"How about Rusk?" Grayne offered. "He saved him, after all."

"No." Rusk replied brusquely, giving Grayne a look.

"Legol was a Corellian colony, yes?" Quasti ventured. "Perhaps a Corellian name would best suit him?"

"Maybe." Montori chewed that over. "'Corellan' is a common enough forename among Corellians. One of my instructors at the academy carried that name."

"It's a good name, Captain." Grayne smiled. "Just needs a finish. Lot of old Corellian family names to choose from. Sull, Antilles, Falcone, Halcyon…"

Rusk, looking down at infant, finally spoke again.

"Corellan Halcyon." Were the only words to escape his lips.

Montori, Grayne and Quasti looked at each other in consideration.

"It'll do." Captain Montori finally nodded, turning to Quasti. "You have your name, Doctor."

Quasti bowed her head solemnly and began typing the information into her datapad. Grayne laid a hand on Rusk's shoulder, as he looked down at the infant. "Someday that kid might do more damage to the Empire than all of us combined."

"That's a pleasant thought." Montori said, regarding the baby. "After a day like today, we need something to hang onto. Something to make it all make sense."

* * *

 ** _The Dark Temple of Drommund Kaas  
_ _24 years later_**

Sergeant Fideltin Rusk put down the last Imperial droid with a round that went right through its head, destroying the control circuits within. The machine fell to the temple floor, never to rise again. Surrounding it were other defeated droids, as well as a pair of dead Imperial Guardsmen.

The Republic soldier checked his repeating blaster cannon and, noting his ammunition count was nearly empty, re-loaded the weapon. It was his last clip.

Rusk had chosen to make his stand in this auxiliary tunnel of the Dark Temple. He knew very well that there would be more Imperial forces coming shortly. Eventually, they would overwhelm and kill him.

That didn't matter. All that mattered was that he drew enough of those enemies to him. That he and the other crewmembers bought Jedi Knight Halcyon enough time to complete his mission of slaying the Emperor.

These last two years had been enlightening for Rusk. From his meeting with Corellan Halcyon on Hoth to their imprisonment aboard the Emperor's Fortress to their rapid campaign to neutralize their enemy's plan to destroy the galaxy. Looking back on what had happened in the Legol system decades earlier, he was now highly suspicious of why the Imperial fleet had been ordered to obliterate the entire colony. Like most Republic soldiers, Rusk had always heard that the Force could grant Jedi and Sith visions of the future. He hadn't really believed it until he had joined Corellan's crew and seen first-hand what two Jedi and single Sith Lord on board could do.

If the Emperor had envisioned a threat, destroying it in its infancy – literally – made sound strategic sense, regardless of the collateral damage.

Rusk was determined that the Emperor of the Sith would pay for his failure to destroy the 'threat' all those years before. And he would pay for all the Republic lives that had been taken since the Sith Empire had revealed itself at the start of the first war.

As he prepared to make his final stand, Rusk felt the whole Temple tremble around him, shaking to its very foundation. He thought for a moment that the beleaguered Republic fleet in orbit might have opened fire on the Temple in a desperate to ensure the Emperor's death before his holo-communicator beeped.

"Mission successful, everyone." The form of Jedi Knight Corellan Halcyon stood tall in the holo-display. "Get back to the shuttle _now_. This whole temple is coming down."

As the holo vanished, Rusk rose to his feet and smiled grimly. He had never told Corellan about their previous encounter, and he probably never would. But as he hurried to the nearest exit, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the sort of man – the sort of **_Hero_** – that infant he had helped save years before had grown into.

He hoped that somewhere, somehow, the woman who had entrusted the infant to his care felt the same.

 **END**

 **Author's Notes:** _Yeah, I came up with this little plot twist a while back. Only after I drew up an outline did I realize how very influenced it must seem by Harry Potter, Superman, and other famous tales. This made me reluctant to write the piece out. But my primary motivator has always been to tell the stories that were bouncing around in my head, to put them on paper (or digital screen) because that was the only thing that seemed to give me relief, so I decided it was worth taking a risk._

 _For those of you who missed it, Callan Grayne was a bit of an Easter egg as another character taken from the actual game. He and Rusk were soldiers in the same squad early in their careers. Grayne later made officer and even reached the rank of General. You encounter him during the Jedi Knight-class mission to Hoth, where he ultimately orders Rusk to join your crew for the duration of the war. (Which is kind of a WTF moment, but there it is.) He isn't the most memorable supporting character in the game, but even so, he and Rusk have a history._

 _Also – and I bring this up because its something that none of the characters will ever discover otherwise – When Rusk mentions baby Corellan falling asleep very suddenly after they lifted off, it was Corellan feeling his mother's death through the Force. The overwhelming shock of it knocked him unconscious for several minutes._

 _Yeah…. Sometimes, I can be dark and tragic._

 _I did my research on Wookiepedia. The series of events of this story isn't a perfect fit for the Legends timeline, but its surprisingly close. Rusk is bit older than he looks._

 _Also, for those wondering, the name Halcyon is Corellian. I chose it for my character ages ago as an homage to Corran Horn from the Star Wars: Legends stories. Halcyon was the real name of Horn's Jedi bloodline before they changed it to avoid the Galactic Empire's purges._

 _Regardless, I hope you liked the story. This series will all feature pre-KOTFE material. Feel free to leave a review if you have time. Thanks again for reading, and may the Force be with you._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Notes:_** _The following story takes place shortly after the conclusion of the Jedi Knight story line._

* * *

"It's not right, Satele!" Master Kaedan's voice reverberated off the walls of the Chamber of the Jedi High Council on Tython as he rose to his feet and began pacing.

Satele Shan, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, sat patiently while her colleague and long-time friend Jaric Kaedan resumed his rant. She had been giving him a certain leeway up to this point out of respect. Respect, first of all, because like her, he sat on the Jedi High Council, having distinguished himself for years in the service of both the Order and the Galactic Republic. And second, because decades ago they had both been young Padawans apprenticed to Master Ngani Zho, one of the greatest Jedi whom Satele had ever known. They had both fought side by side with Zho and so many other Jedi in those early days of the last war against the Sith Empire, and they had been friends ever since. Serving side by side on the Council and guiding the entire Jedi Order through the recent years and the war's resumption, there had certainly been many times when they had not agreed on the proper course of action. But Satele had always appreciated that Jaric's rather _severe_ positions came from his profound dedication both to the Jedi Order and its Code.

Listening to him now, however, she was beginning to question that long-held appreciation.

Satele had just returned to Tython that very day from leading a fleet of Republic ships on a successful operation to Dromund Kaas, the capital of the Sith Empire. The fleet had provided cover for a small strike team led by Jedi Knight Corellan Halcyon to land on the planet, penetrate the Dark Temple and assassinate the Sith Emperor. The Imperial ruler had plotted the destruction of the entire galaxy to further his own power and ensure his own immortality. Placing her trust in the Force, Satele had correctly determined that Corellan was the only Jedi in the Order capable of striking down the ancient Sith Lord. In recognition of the young Jedi's accomplishments and for the dedication he had shown despite facing near-impossible odds, Satele had seen fit to promote Corellan Halcyon to the rank of Jedi Master in a ceremony aboard the Republic flagship _Valiant_. Upon returning to Tython to relay these events to the rest of the Council, the few remaining members present had whole-heartedly agreed with Satele's actions. This, of course, with the exception of Jaric Kaedan, who had objected to Corellan being named to the ranks of the Masters most vociferously. After the arguments had continued to escalate, Satele had finally ordered the meeting adjourned and the chamber of the Jedi council cleared, deciding that if her old friend was insisting on questioning her decision, she could at the very least ensure that he did so in a private conversation.

"The boy is simply not ready, Satele." Kaedan continued, as he walked around the table. "Assuming he ever will be. He is too young. And far too brash and arrogant, besides. He walks a dangerous path with no consideration for the consequences to himself or others."

Satele continued to exercise patience, as she usually did. She herself was recognized as one of the wisest teachers in the Order, an excellent leader and virtually unmatched as a warrior.

"The others on the Council do not share your views on this matter, Jaric." Satele said, her voice was patient but firm. "Nor, for that matter, do I."

"Then you've all been blinded, Satele!" he exclaimed. "Blinded by his victories and his glory-hounding ways."

Satele shook her head, sharply.

"Jaric, I have certainly never heard Corellan attempt to claim credit for the accomplishments of another. On the contrary, he has consistently praised the contributions of those who aided him. Whether that has meant his crew, Republic soldiers, even the Voss -"

"The Voss!" Kaeden snapped. "That only reinforces my point! Clearly, he has been corrupted by these so-called 'neutral' Force users…"

Satele raised an eyebrow, but this time let Kaeden press on with his rant. She was coming to the realization that Jaric was being driven by personal jealousy. Jaric had once been considered a 'living weapon of the Force', the champion of the Jedi and the Republic. A shining example for the entire Order. Now, he felt his place had been usurped, surpassed by a younger, more powerful example of the ideal Jedi warrior. His natural suspicion had grown into irrational contempt and was slowly pushing him over the edge.

She had missed the warning signs. The last war – and the Republic's defeat – had been a point of bitterness to her old friend, but she had not faulted him. Even she had felt the sting of the sacking of Coruscant and the deaths of so many of her fellow Jedi. But his excessive persecution of Kira Carsen and his later words directed at Corellan and his crew…

She should have acted sooner.

"Scourge should be imprisoned." He continued. "The girl should be permanently confined to Tython for everyone's safety. And Corellan should be grounded until he learns to respect his betters." Jaric almost sneered. "If Master Orgus were still with us, he'd tell you the same."

These direct demands merited a prompt response.

"You spoke almost the same exact words regarding _Jedi Knight_ Kira Carsen, with respect to the absence of Master Bela Kiwiiks." Satele replied, her voice going terse as she emphasized Kira's name and rank. "She went on to help Corellan defeat Darth Angral, and earned her Knighthood."

Orgus waived his hand dismissively. "Not the point. Blast it, Satele. Why can't any of you see the danger of letting this _boy_ run free?"

"Because _Jedi Master_ Corellan Halcyon has earned the right, Jaric." Satele's voice was hardening. "Because as _unconventional_ as some of his actions and choices may have been, his judgements have ultimately been validated. That is why I have given him a wide berth."

The Grandmaster paused as Kaeden scowled in silence.

"I'm worried for you, Jaric." Satele's voice softened. "This obsession is becoming dangerous."

"Bah." He growled. "My only concern has ever been for the future of the Jedi Order. You've heard the whispers, even here in the Temple halls. The padawans and younglings _gossip_ , Satele. They gossip about _him_. They revere _him_. Many of them view him as their personal hero or champion! He's becoming their ideal of what a Jedi should be! Imagine if all our young Jedi suddenly decided they needed to travel with a Sith!"

Kaeden suddenly snatched up a datapad. "Ilum. Ilum is the next flash point in the war. Our Adegan crystal mining operation there is the Sith's target. That is where I will humble the Imperials. That is where I will turn the tide of this war."

Kaeden dropped the data pad back on the table, then his hand closed into a fist.

"I'll show these Padawans – and our _entire_ Order – what a true hero is. I'll inspire them back to the true path."

"Jaric, no." Satele stood up in alarm. "You should delay for a time. At least until I can summon Corellan his crew to assist in your efforts."

"Never!" Kaeden pounded the table with his fist. "That would defeat the entire purpose. The masses – even our own Jedi –would simply credit Corellan and his _people_ for our victory, and they would be further lauded."

"I need no Sith Lord at my back nor the _spawn_ of a Sith at my side." Kaeden nearly spat. "I have my Duros commandos. Disciplined Republic shock troopers I've trained myself who've been hardened by real combat. We will be more than enough to turn the tide of battle in our favor."

"Pursuit of personal glory is not the Jedi way, Jaric."

"It's not for my glory!" he roared. "I am fighting for the future of the Jedi Order! And that future does not belong to the _boy_ yet!"

With that, he turned his back to her and stormed out towards the exit.

Satele briefly debated ordering him to stop; confining him to the Temple for a time. But no. That would not help matters. That would only make things worse, and potentially divide the Jedi Order at a crucial moment in its history.

No. For once, she would have to leave matters in fate's hands.

"May the Force be with you, Jaric Kaedan." Satele Shan whispered sadly, as the council chamber doors slammed closed behind the departing Jedi Master.

The words ran hollow, even to her own ears.

* * *

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Anyone want to guess what character in the game I hate the most?_

 _Okay, okay, its actually Hunter and Ardun Kothe. (That second chapter in the Imperial Agent story is_ such _a trip.) But Jaric Kaedan is a close third. He is the living embodiment of Jedi arrogance. Everything wrong with the order is on display with him. I just imagined his reaction to finding out my JK was now a Master while Kira and Scourge both got medals. The result was this piece._

 _(I will not tell you how many times I hunted down Kaedan on Ilum with my Imperial-side characters. Except to say 'not enough times'.)_

 _Satele Shan, I feel, is tragically under-used in SWTOR fan fiction, given her iconic status. (After all, you click on her every time you roll up a Republic character!)_

 _Thanks for reading, and May the Force be with You._


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Notes:_** _The following message was sent during Chapter Two of the Jedi Knight Class Story._

* * *

To: Bengel Morr

From: Corellan Halcyon

Subject: Your Message

Bengel,

I received your message. Please know that you can always contact me if there is ever anything I can do for you.

I'm glad the Masters are helping you, and that you're doing so much better.

I won't try to give you any great words of wisdom. I'm no Jedi Master.

Instead, I'll just speak to you about Master Orgus.

He was the greatest Jedi I've ever known, and the best man. When I became a Knight, I was proud, but I regretted that my time as his Padawan came to an end so soon. I still feel his loss deeply. Just the other day I was about to comm him for advice about something before I caught myself and remembered.

I wanted you to know that.

I also wanted you to know that no matter what else happened, no matter how bad things got on Tython, Orgus Din never stopped believing in you, and in the good man he saw inside you.

I hope you can draw comfort and strength from that.

Take care, my friend, and may the Force be with you.

\- Corellan


	4. Chapter 4

**_Author's Notes:_** _Sometimes, determining the role of the hero is largely a matter of perspective. The following story takes place during the early prologue of the Jedi Knight class story._

* * *

H'otregh roared in victory as the _Jedaii_ cub fell beneath his blade.

A moment later, his fellows Thokim and Barkogh, pounced upon the fallen cub, feasting on her flesh.

Similar scenes were playing themselves out all around them. Far to the north of their mighty rock-den, the _Jedaii_ young were easy meat, with few of their elders to protect them. The cursed _Jedaii_ had been taken completely unprepared for the People's attack, and now they were going to fall in droves.

The laws of the Old Gods were clear on the matter of the _Jedaii_ – they were to be hunted and slain. The _Jedaii_ had rebelled against the Old Gods in the times of the People's grandsires' grandsires, driving the Gods away from the Land. It was the sworn duty of the People to punish the _Jedaii_ for their crimes against the Gods. Indeed, the shaman told tales that this was why the Old Gods had created the People in the first place, forging them in their own image.

But H'otregh did not need to listen to the tales of the shaman around the fire to know all of this. He could feel it in his _blood_.

For countless seasons, the Land had been pure. The People had reigned supreme. Though the Old Gods did not return, it was _good_.

Then the hated _Jedaii_ had returned.

The People had tried to hunt them again, as the Old Gods had once commanded. They had tried to slaughter them, to feast upon them. But the _Jedaii_ were strong, and the People were scattered. The years of peace had made them soft. They were easily turned back. So it was that the _Jedaii_ had built their rock-den. Then later still, the head-things had arrived, building their own dens east of the _Jedaii_ rock-den. They were not as strong as the _Jedaii_ , but they were still unified enough to resist the scattered People. Truly, the People had been brought low, reduced to mere scavengers on a world where they had once dominated everything.

Then the New Master, the Bengel, had arrived, along with his war chief, Callef. The two had forged the People anew, training them in the use of the weapons used by the _Jedaii_ and the head-things. The hitting-sticks, and the fire-things that could fell an enemy from afar. The Master united many tribes from all over the Land, gathering more of the People than even the elders knew existed. They even showed a handful of the People, their chosen, how to learn the Power; the same gifts the _Jedaii_ wielded. Now united, the People would crush the _Jedaii_ , finally retaking the Land for all time.

Reveling at the thought, H'otregh's teeth plunged into the neck of the fallen cub, drinking his fill as the bloodlust overwhelmed him. The People had always fed on their fallen opponents to claim their strength as their own. They become more powerful for having claimed their prey. The greatest warriors among them had slain and consumed dozens of foes, not only among the People but among the beasts of the Land as well.

Greatest, of course, was to consume _Jedaii_ flesh.

Throughout the valley, the _Jedaii_ cubs fell or fled, chased off by the People and their fire-things. Most would be hunted down and eaten on the spot; others would be taken prisoner for later. Their elders would be slow to respond, and their future would die here. For many turns of the seasons, the _Jedaii_ had dismissed the People as beasts. That would now change.

Many things would change this day.

It would be a victory worthy of the Old Gods.

Suddenly, H'otregh felt the impact of something large landing nearby. No doubt, one of the other People had come to scavenge his kill away from the trio of Thokim, Barkogh and himself. Furious, he released the dead cub, letting out an angry roar as he looked up.

What he saw shocked him.

Thokim had been impaled and nearly decapitated by the weapon of another _Jedaii_ cub, one who had not been there a moment earlier. H'otregh realized that the cub had leapt from many lengths away, something no cub should have been able to do. He carried a hitting-stick in each hand, but unlike his elders, his hitting-sticks did not glow. One of these sticks now protruded from Thokim's throat, his blood spilt on the grass. That was impossible. No _Jedaii_ cub should have been able to come upon a proven trio of the People's warriors undetected, much less have the strength to strike down one of them carrying a hitting-stick one-handed. The shame that would attach itself to Thokim's name would follow him into the next life.

Barkogh would not suffer the same infamy. He raised his fire-thing and pointed it towards the upstart cub. He would strike him down with his fire. Only the glowing hitting-sticks of the fully-grown _Jedaii_ could block the attacks of the fire-things. The cub was as good as dead.

Impossibly, the _Jedaii_ dodged the fire as it leapt from Barkogh's weapon. Then, with a single slash of his hitting sticks, Barkogh fell to the ground, dead.

H'otregh roared. His followers, warriors who he had known since he had been a cub himself, had been slain in the space of three heartbeats.

 _He_ refused to follow them.

H'otregh lunged at the cub with his own hitting-stick, calling upon his rage to fuel his strength and speed as the Bengel had trained them.

The cub nearly – _nearly_ – parried the blow, as the sharp tip of the hitting-stick caught his face around his right eye, a flesh wound that very nearly blinded him.

The glory of the strike sang through H'otregh's spirit in adulation, and he let out another roar, this time in anticipation of his coming victory. The _Jedaii_ cub would now crumble, and H'otregh would finish him off and feast on his flesh. Even now, he dreamt of all that would come to him. Grand Chieftain Keshk would honor him before all the tribes, perhaps even name him a chief in his own right. The Bengel might even choose him to receive the Power. The females would flock to his side, eager to mate with him. All he had ever desired would be his.

Too late, H'otregh realized that the cub had not, in fact, crumbled in pain when their blood had been shed.

He had recovered, and now he was attacking with both of his hitting sticks lashing out.

Desperately, H'otregh attempted to block the strikes, only to watch in horror as his block countered and turned aside by one stick while the other cut deep into his arm. He bellowed in pain, dropping his weapon. He looked up and saw the _Jedaii_ moving to finish him off. Strangely, there was no anger in the cub's expression. No pain or recrimination. Just resolve.

Somehow, impossibly, H'otregh knew that this encounter would make the _Jedaii_ cub stronger. He would not consume his flesh, but he would consume the _experience_. The _Jedaii_ would be left with a scar, but one that he would learn from and would be a constant reminder in the future. No one would ever strike at the cub the way H'otregh had again.

The Jedaii hitting-sticks struck home.

As his consciousness – and his very existence – faded away, one final, bitter thought formed in H'otregh's mind as he felt his destiny stripped away from him:

It wasn't fair. _He_ was supposed to have been the Hero.

END

* * *

 ** _Author's Notes:_** _So, Corellan – how did you get that scar around your right eye?_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Notes:**_ _Sometimes, good planning takes a lifetime._

* * *

 _CZ-198_  
 _13 BTC_

Doctor Rasmus Blys watched intently as the small freighter lifted off from the western landing platform at CZ-198, the most advanced facility ever constructed or operated by Czerka Corporation.

To a man like Blys, Czerka was far more than an employer. It was his life. His family. His legacy. Blys had already risen to considerable heights within his family, and his ambitions would lead him higher still… presuming the secret he had concealed on the freighter remained secret.

To a man like Blys, there were no lengths to which he would not go to see that happened.

Vendock approached from behind him. Blys regarded his fellow Czerka scientist, observing that the other man still walked with a limp, and carried numerous scars from the incident two days before. Blys further noted Vendock's nervousness and attempting to keep the contempt off his face.

"So where are you sending him?" Vendock asked, nervously glancing up as the shuttle broke for orbit.

Blys frowned, then waved for Vendock to follow him. The two men approached the platform's edge; no railings, here. They weren't necessary. Blys also happened to know that the security system monitoring what was said and done on the landing platform happened to have a 'blind spot' at this very location.

 _A very convenient blind spot_. Blys mused. CZ-198 was, of course, one of the most secure facilities in the galaxy.

"First of all, Doctor, you will not speak of this matter to anyone under any circumstances. I trust I make myself clear?" Blys gave his subordinate a hard look.

Doctor Vendock began stammering nervously, a trait that Blys simultaneously found satisfying and annoying at the same time.

"Of… of course, Doctor Blys!" Vendock managed with a sputter, catching his breath. "I'm very grateful for your protection from this… this incident! I would never dream of speaking to anyone else about it! Ever!"

Blys continued to glare at the other man, making sure he was appropriately humbled.

"Good. We've already lost a good deal of resources on this project as it is." Blys finally answered.

"To my second point, Doctor, I would appreciate you remembering your scientific detachment. The surviving subject is not a 'him'. It is an 'it', and it remains Czerka property."

"Yes, Doctor." Vendock swallowed, managing to keep his control this time. "Of course."

This time, Blys turned away, looking out into CZ-198's toxic atmosphere.

"Billions of credits. Two years of work. Almost an entire research team and support staff, all dead. Six test subjects – each of them representing so many resources – lost. Millions in equipment destroyed. All during the incident." He pondered. "Only two things matter, now: First, salvaging _something_ from this debacle. Second, pretending the whole thing never happened to begin with."

"Yes, sir." Vendock murmured. "We knew going in about the need for discretion."

"Did you?" Blys almost sneered. "Were you briefed on what could happen to you – to all of us – if it leaked out?"

"Republic law prohibits…" Vendock started to answer.

"To hell with Republic law!" Blys snapped. "No one cares about Republic law! If word of this got out, not all the lawyers and all the lobbyists in the galaxy would be able to save us! The Jedi, for all their peace-loving prattle, would come down upon us like the void! And the Sith! They have an entire _Empire_ behind them. Could you imagine an entire fleet of their dreadnaughts in orbit above us? Wiping out our entire facility? Or _every_ Czerka facility all over the galaxy? They could do that, and to hell with their war effort."

"Yes, sir." Vendock mumbled.

"So – in answer to your original question, I am sending our sole surviving subject, a subject who does not officially _exist_ anymore, to be raised at the mining colony."

The gears of Vendock's mind turned at this revelation. "But that's where we sent the…."

"Exactly." Blys cut him off with finality. He did not want to have to remind Vendock again that the subject was not a person.

"The colony doesn't exist on any star map. There's nothing to connect it with us. Even if it were found by the Republic, it would just look like a tax evasion scheme."

A calm silence fell over the two men.

"And then the… _project_ develops?" Vendock finally asked.

"Then we take it in and proceed when it is safe to do so. But we leave his origins a blank."

A beat passed.

"What if he… what if the _subject_ … never develops?" Vendock finally asked. "As we think it should, I mean?"

"Then it will grow, live and die in ignorance." Blys answered sourly. "No one will be left the wiser."

Vendock collected himself. "Maybe that would be for the best." He whispered.

Blys didn't bother to answer him.

"Still." The younger scientist continued. "At least we seem to have confirmed one thing."

"And what is that?" Blys asked idly.

"Those stories the Jedi put out – about cloning and genetic manipulation and so on – there's plainly something to them." Vendock almost smiled. "Plainly, there are repercussions when Force-sensitives are tampered with."

Blys could have back-handed the man. Instead, he kept his voice level.

"I trust you are certain nothing compromising was left?"

"Absolutely, sir." Vendock confirmed, nodding rapidly. "The records have been scrubbed, and the droids who did the slicing were themselves scrubbed. The entire laboratory wing is being rebuilt as we speak." He exhaled slowly. "I'm the last member of the team left alive, and I'll certainly never tell anyone what happened here."

"You and I are the only two left who knew that Project 2187 ever existed."

Blys allowed his shoulders to relax, as he slipped his hand into his lab coat.

"Good. Good… which reminds me, Doctor."

Blys withdrew his hand, revealing a high-caliber sidearm pointed directly at Venock.

Vendock's eyes widened in shock, as he started to back away.

Naturally, being a proud company man that he was, Blys' weapon was a late-model Czerka slug-thrower, specially equipped with a silencer, and loaded with soft hollow points set to deliver maximum impact.

It was unlikely Vendock could have appreciated these attributes as Blys discharged two rounds into his chest.

"Czerka thanks you for your years of service, Doctor Vendock. Your services are no longer required at this time." He fired the third round into the scientist's skull. "You should consider yourself free to seek out other opportunities."

Vendock's body fell against the railing. Blys reached over and gave it a push, then watched it fall hundreds of feet towards the ground below. The impact – and Blys' gentle prodding – would discourage any detailed forensic study, and Vendock, like all good company men, had already willed his remains to Czerka for scientific study.

 _Fool_. Thought Blys. _He should have known I wouldn't have told him anything unless I knew he wouldn't be able to harm me_.

Blys thumbed the communicator on his wrist.

"Security? Yes, I'm afraid Doctor Vendock has just suffered a tragic misfortune. I suspect the stress of the last two days may have addled him more than we suspected…. Yes, send a team down, but no need for any gory details. We must protect his next of kin, after all…."

* * *

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Rasmus Blys appears in the game. He's the end boss to the Czerka Corporate Labs flashpoint._

 _2187 is a reference to Leia's cell number in the first movie._

 _This was obviously an outlier. I don't if I'll explore it further._


	6. Chapter 6

The Sith Lord known as **Lord Scourge** wants Revenge against Vitiate, the Sith Emperor. He wants revenge for what the ancient Sith Lord did to him three hundred years ago, granting him immortality but taking from him everything that made life worth living. He wants revenge for being forced to serve as his personal executioner for all of that time. It is true that Scourge may have started down this long and arduous path out of a sort of enlightened self-interest. Vitiate, Scourge knows full-well, is a threat to the entire galaxy. He has known that from the moment he met him in person so many years ago. The Emperor is a threat to everyone who has ever lived and to everyone who ever _will_ live. But his anger and rage at his 'Master' have only deepened over the centuries. Scourge is incredibly fortunate that he burns cold, one of the side-effects that he suffers as the result of Vitiate's ritual. Were it otherwise, the Emperor would surely have sensed the profound danger that his Wrath represented, and the _unrepentant traitor_ has no illusions as to how that confrontation would end. After the Dromund Kaas operation, Scourge claims to stay with the _Defender_ 's crew simply to be certain that the Emperor has left them no further surprises.

But somewhere deep down, Scourge knows that this isn't the end of it. Something of the Emperor has survived. But he also knows the Jedi Knight will be there to see the prophecy through no matter what it takes. The Knight's resolve is the equal of Revan's, of the Exile's and of Scourge's himself. Perhaps even greater.

And Scourge will therefore aid the Jedi however he can.

Lord Scourge stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise him **Revenge**.

* * *

 **Fidelitin Rusk** has been fighting one battle or another for his entire adult life. He is considered ruthless and sometimes even reckless by his fellow Republic soldiers, and sometimes even by his crewmates. Rusk – the third-oldest member of the crew but perhaps the oldest in practical life experience – accepts these assessments without rebuke or defense; he is what he is. His entire mindset was constructed for battles and wars that had to be won regardless of the costs. Rusk has fought so hard and for so long that there are some days when even _he_ starts to forget why he does what he does. Indeed, there are times when Rusk disapproves of the Knight's choices, believing that they risk too much for others and that they are far too willing to however briefly put aside the greater mission to save even a single life all while the entire galaxy stands at risk.

But deep down, the _lost soldier's_ only true purpose has only ever been to defend those who cannot defend themselves. He was born and raised by a colony of pacifists; that didn't stop the Empire from annihilating his people. When he looks at the Jedi Knight – so selfless and so brave, so willing to put themselves on the line for those who need them, he is reminded of the justness of that cause. And as he wins battle after battle and that cause is served, than perhaps everything that Rusk has done has been worth it.

Sergeant Fideltin Rusk stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise him **Victory**.

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Doctor Archiban Kimble knows perfectly how the rest of the galaxy, and even his closest allies aboard the _Defender_ , view him. The man who calls himself **Doc** is seen as an arrogant, misogynistic, self-aggrandizing, fame-seeking, womanizing nerf-herder; a man who has left a seemingly endless line of women high and dry over the years, from Prudy and on down the list. Honestly? Doc wouldn't have it any other way. Letting people believe that he cares so little about his personal relationships gives him a sort of shield against the things in the universe that he doesn't want to deal with, all while still allowing him to continue to enjoy the things that keep him going.

But a man who worked his through medical school on his own merits and who has consistently chosen to serve as a combat medic on some of the most dangerous planets in the galaxy doesn't do so just for fame, fortune and women. He could have had all that _and_ lived in style while conducting research projects for a major pharmaceutical company back on Coruscant. No, once upon a time there was a young Archiban who set upon this path, and who did so for far nobler reasons then Doc would ever admit to anyone. Doc doesn't know how, but for some reason, he knows that when the Jedi Knight looks at him, they see something beyond the broken healer who has put up a shell around themselves. The Knight then offers the medic an opportunity for a more meaningful existence than he could have ever dreamed of.

Doc stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise to always **Help** others.

* * *

Some days, **Kira Carsen** feels like she's spent her entire life just trying to be true to who she is in a galaxy that seems determined to force her to become something else. She was raised on Korriban by some of the most sadistic and fanatical Sith in the galaxy, the Children of the Emperor. Every time she sees one of her 'siblings' returning to the dormitories with missing pieces of their memory, she cringes and pulls up her blanket around herself. And when Kira returns one night and realizes she can't remember what happened to her, she knows that soon, there will be nothing left of her identity, either. The survival rate of acolytes who flee the Korriban academy cannot be higher than two percent. Most flee into the wilderness and, when they aren't immediately hunted down and killed, become 'broken', running around in gangs, often going mad. But ten-year old Kira smuggles herself out on an outgoing cargo ship, and a week later she's on Nar Shaddaa. She sees the suffering of people, there. Those who are unable or unwilling to kick something up to the Hutts quickly find themselves sent down. The slums where refugees congregate are almost as cruel and unforgiving as Korriban. Life is hard, but here, Kira discovers something about herself. Inexplicably, she actually _cares_ about other people; especially the ones who take her in, and who are too weak to fend for themselves against the predators among them. Then Kira meets Bela Kiwiiks and joins the Jedi Order. Kira is unbelievably grateful to Master Kiwiiks. The Togrutta got her off Nar Shaddaa, gave her a home and a place in the galaxy, and has given her a place in the galaxy and the chance to do some good. Master Kiwiiks is like the mother that she never had. Kiwiiks is gently but firmly trying to teach Kira to be the best Jedi she can be.

But as proud as she is to be a Jedi, Kira Carsen is trying to be the best version of _herself_.

When she meets the Jedi Knight, everything changes very quickly. Somehow, the Knight trusts Kira against the Black Sun at the spaceport on Coruscant, and then later still when they're hunting down Tarnis. When Master Satele instructs the Knight to take Kira in as a Padawan, Kira is elated. She follows the Knight's lead, but she feels more like a partner than their apprentice. The Knight talks _with_ her instead of _at_ her, and they learn a great deal about themselves and the galaxy from each other. When Kira's past is revealed, the Knight supports her unquestioningly; first against Valis, then against Master Jaric Kaedan and finally against the Emperor himself on Darth Angral's dreadnaught. When Kira finally purges the Emperor from her mind, she feels the Knight reaching out to her, aiding her the entire time.

(All this comes _before_ that night under the stars on Tython, when Kira finally jumps the Knight and they become far more than partners.)

Kira is still herself, learning and growing at her own pace. There are times she questions the Knight's choices. She groans when they take in Doc and worries a great deal when they let Scourge join. But through it all, the Knight never asks Kira to compromise herself; they never tell her how she should feel or think about anything. The Knight simply asks Kira to trust them. And she does. The doubting Jedi questions many things; but they never question the Knight, because the Knight has never questioned her.

Kira Carsen stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise to let her be **Herself** , and because they let her become the best version of **Herself** she can.

* * *

 **T7-O1** – Teeseven to his friends – has served the Jedi Order for decades, and quite frankly, they would be hard pressed to find anyone who has done so with greater devotion. The astromech droid is more than content to carry messages and conduct reconnaissance for the Jedi as they continue to adjust to their home on Tython.

But for the _mechanical servant_ , the most satisfying period of his existence was during the time he served as a companion to Jedi Master Ven Zallow, one of the greatest heroes of the Galactic Republic during the last galactic war. Zallow was a true champion of the ideals of both the Jedi and the Republic, serving with wisdom and strength. The little droid misses those days, fiercely. He knows the work he does for the Order is important, but nothing was more fulfilling than knowing ones actions have helped right a wrong or saved a life.

After ten years of waiting, Teeseven is finally partnered with another hero. This one is even kinder and more powerful than Ven Zallow; they seem to do nothing but sacrifice for others. In the Jedi Knight, Teeseven has found a champion who can save the entire galaxy. Privately, the little droid does worry. He worries that the cruelties of this galaxy will weigh on the Knight, that they will become bitter with loss, and will eventually fall short of their ideals as so many Jedi have before. But Teeseven will be there for the Knight, no matter what. They will follow the Knight into the darkest places in the galaxy, as they blaze a light. They will be the Knight's friend, and show the Jedi the way. In return, the Knight will help Teeseven be what the droid always wanted to be.

T7-O1 stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise him that they will always be **Heroes**.


End file.
